


Infinite Night Stands

by Avaya



Category: Justice League & Justice League Unlimited (Cartoons)
Genre: Angst, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 13:58:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10641276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avaya/pseuds/Avaya
Summary: In order to deal with aRare, Bruce Wayne gives an ultimatum that must suit them both: theRarewill only get one night with him. Meanwhile, Barry Allen tries to deal with his one-sided affection.





	1. Prologue: The Mistake

_**Inside Vybe Nightclub: Gotham City** _

He was here due to his rejection of a _Rare_ —an individual who he _would_ —not could—fall in love with which would have disastrous effects on his life. The happenstances of him meeting one was so few that he rarely gave it any thought.

But _this_ one was dangerous. Exceptionally so because of who this _Rare_  was. How unfortunate was it that he luxuriated in the deep end of the shallow pool designated _adoration_.

Tortured blue eyes haunted him as he simply revealed—for both their sakes--that he was a one night stand kind of man. It was true for the most part, but _he_ didn’t need to know that _he_ could dismantle his carefully crafted facade.  
  
_"One night. That's all that I would be able to give you. No more."_  

 _“But I can be that.”_ The _Rare_ rebuffed softly, pushing his glasses up in the middle with a forefinger.

 _“A one night stand means that we have sex once…and never again. Can you do that?”_ He didn’t add that he himself could not.

The _Rare_ hesitated. _“And that’s all I would be?”_

He pounced on the opening given to him.

 _“That’s all that you_ are _.”_

A flash of hurt crossed those captivating eyes.

_“I mean that’s all you would be, not what I think you deserve at all. I can’t give you what you want.”_

_“Can’t we try?”_

_“You’d be fine with the fact that I must be unfaithful to you? That you come second in my life?”_

Brief hesitation. He had abused it once more.

_“Then you have your answer, because I won’t stop none of what I do. Even for you.”_

He maneuvered through the twisting bodies, limbs swinging to the music, the bass pulsing throughout the large room, vibrations felt by his frame. His hand loosely grasped that of a delicate femme he’d charmed.

She would be his conquest for the night. She always made him forget about _him_.

Strobe lights flashed as they neared the back hallway that would take them to his private enclosure. Something caught his eyes, something he recognized and his head twisted to search. He nearly stopped and would have if the sweet little demure behind him hadn’t pressed her body against his back, hard nipples rubbing against him.

Pleasure first. He’d find what nagged him later.

They reached the private room reserved only for the Son of Gotham….but no one knew that. Bruce Wayne couldn’t be caught in a debauched sex club. Though his playboy ways besmirched his name, this would look more unfavorable. He didn’t need more bad press. Luckily, the patrons of this nightclub only knew shabbily dressed blond-haired green-eyed Skyler No-Last-Name. People were after him, he joked when asked.

He swiped his card and they slipped in, Bruce Wayne smirking at the lusty eyes of the beautiful barely legal teen. She was rare for three reasons: her age, her virginity, and the fact that she was now a _Regular_.

 _Regulars_ were persons he could never fall in love with due to certain distasteful traits of their personality, but were fantastic enough in bed to write into his black book and exchange numbers on a cheap go-phone. There were only eight of them, Autumn being the most recent.

She turned eighteen a month ago and had come to his preying ground for the after-party of the lavish one she had hours before. Her rich auburn hair and lithe frame fluidly moving with the music had caught his eye. Though he preferred mature women who had the look of experience and weren’t shy in many ways, something told him that she would be just as wild as them. So he approached her when she danced her way to the bar.

An hour later, they were in the darkened hallways that led to the bedrooms. Her legs wrapped around his waist as they feverishly kissed. The thrumming from the bass was so loud that those who passed around them merely thought they were enthusiastically swallowing each other’s tongue.

No. Her short skirt easily hid his engorged cock sliding into her, virginity ebbing away as a sharp snap of his hips drove his cock into her, breaking through, a sharp keen muffled in his mouth. She was almost _too_ tight for him, he’d realized, as they both waited for her to adjust to his girth.

He then began to slowly move, her painful sighs drifting towards pleasurable gasps.

He wore no protection and didn’t even need to prepare her with his mouth until she dripped—he preferred it this way honestly. They could cut right to the chase. He felt her velvet heat as he slid into her, her moist pussy allowing him to glide along effortlessly.

She was one of _those_ —women who when wet, their panties were soaked through. As in completely drenched. As in if he wrung the panties, it would drip. He’d tasted her plenty of times beginning that night.

So sweet.

She was soon heavily panting into his mouth as he thrust deeply, mind heady due to the tightness suffocating him. He was surprised when she moved to meet his thrusts, clawed at his back or hair, reaching down to rub her clit. Soft lips brushed his ear and she had murmured breathlessly, “ _You can cum in me. I have the pill.”_

She certainly didn’t _act_ like someone who had been deflowered. It made her special enough to fuck quite a few times afterwards…just not to love. Her entitled personality was the reason for that.

“I saw you looking at my friend.” She pouted, slipping the straps of her simple black dress off her shoulders as the door snapped shut. It gracefully fell to pool around her ankles, revealing that she wore nothing else underneath. Perfect breasts greeted him with delightful pink nipples he enjoyed teasing. Eyes running the length of her body revealed the wonderful cunny that he fucked so much over the past month that it had loosened, her pretty clit taunting him to lick it, lick it so she could make those adorable sounds again.

But the _jealous_ undertone curbed his desire.

He smiled at the mention of her friend. Autumn had been the one that released him from his jeans on a dare. She had been the one to close her mouth over him and steadily blow him due to the fact that her friend didn’t think that she had been sleeping with an older man. He saw the effect that it had on her friend.

“It looked like she wanted to join. I wouldn’t be much of a gentleman if I didn’t ask her.” He drawled in his perfected New Yorker accent.

“Hmph.” A well-manicured hand cupped a mound, as the other purposefully glided down her porcelain skin towards her folds. They were spread to reveal that she was already _dripping_ wet. “Maybe I should give this to someone who would appreciate me, hmm?”

He would have frowned if it hadn’t been for the teasing lilt in her voice. He didn’t like _anyone_ trying to manipulate him in any way. Plastering on a charming smile though he kept his gaze trained below, he whispered huskily, “You know that no one here is remotely as appealing as you.”

“Of course I do.” She snorted deftly. Smoothly shrugging off the dress trapping her feet, she walked over to the bed, hips swaying. She lied upon it spreading her legs so that they could see each other.

“You think this is jealousy, Skyler? Insecurity?” She laughed at her own words before spreading herself to him with both hands. “No. I’m giving myself to you and the least that you can do is stop looking for something better. There _isn’t_. At least, not in Gotham.”

The attraction he felt for her dwindled further whenever she spoke.

 _I can think of a few_. He thought, chuckling at her ‘modest’ comment. His mind produced numerous arguments to rip hers to shreds, but that was not how Skyler operated. Skyler was a Casanova, a prolific lover of extraordinary individuals from either gender. He usually wasn’t a repeat offender but his regulars were too enticing to forget.

Especially Autumn, at least before. But now her petty envy, arrogance, and selfishness made him realize that though she is an incredible fuck, he could barely tolerate her outside of spread legs.

So Skyler relinquished himself to the allure of the young woman that drew him in for the final time. He stripped himself completely, relishing the wide eager eyes that fell on his thick member.  He blanketed the creamy body, kissing full lips painted cherry red, hardness rubbing against wetness.

A light blush spread along her body as he rose, her hold on herself readjusting as he brushed his tip against her clit, then between her lips. There it was—the quiet _needy_ mewl of vulnerability. She wanted, fucking _needed_ what he had to give. And so he gave it to her, barely pushing the tip in, watching the slight resistance before she relented, and baring herself open only enough to suckle sweetly at the head.

The familiar hotness assaulted him and promised unforgettable pleasure. A haze overtook his mind while he watched his cock spread pretty lips to slide in. Draping himself over her as he braced hands beneath her legs, he felt her arms, body pushing upwards so that her nipples grazed his and to have more inside of her.

They soon settled into their comfortable rhythm. Bruce delighted in the sounds he caused from the young demure writhing beneath him: from the _squelch_ of her pussy to the soft cries slipping past her ringed-shaped mouth. He could feel her tightening around him, French-tips clawing into his ass cheeks to urge him on.

A cock-throbbing sight greeted him when he looked down at Autumn. Her back is arched, head thrown back in pleasure while her hair decorated the pillow below her, breasts bouncing deliciously with each thrust inside. A name fell from her lips that threatened to break the allure for him until he registered that it belonged to his current persona. Long kisses refrained her from speaking.

It didn’t take long for the coil of pleasure to burn through him and he staved it off as long as he could. It erupted when Autumn grabbed hold of a breast before furiously rubbing her clit. Rooting himself deep and holding her tight enough to bruise, his came hard enough that his vision blurred, breath hitching, a long drawn out growl emitted. Her own orgasmic cry barely reached him.

Post-orgasmic bliss was short due to Bruce’s still half-erect cock pushing into her slowly again when Autumn pushed her body against him. This Regular is perfect enough—when she didn’t talk—to cause him to forget about—

A searing pain flashed through his chest.

His eyes widened and he stilled, part of his length embedded inside of her. He could hear her admonishment of him stopping mid-thrust, once sultry _begging_ to continue now considered annoying. So Bruce withdrew completely to her surprise which—none to his surprise of course—soon segued to anger when he continued to ignore her.

She wasn’t important now though. Bruce sifted through the earlier memories of the night as he climbed off the bed, searching for a particular one that caught his interest but he’d dismissed it in favor of a sexual escapade. Now it is a glaring reminder of why he’s here with a woman like Autumn.

Approaching a window that looked out onto the dance floor, he tried to find the figures of his memory. As he headed towards the small private room, he’d inadvertently seen _Clark Kent_ grinding against a blond suitor. He didn’t know _who_ the individual is due to their lips being locked over Clark’s shoulder. Undoubtedly since time has since passed, the man wouldn’t stray far from Clark. Gently caressing his lips with the tips of his fingers, he knew that to be sooth. Anyone who indulged in any part of Clark would be lost.

He’d begun to think that perhaps it was a trick of the mind, his psyche toying with his heart until cobalt eyes discerned a mass that he’d previously looked over huddled on a couch in the corner rise. It’s almost as if they unfurled, so deeply entwined that they were almost one.

Shadows ensconced them both but it’s as if he could see Clark as brightly as in daylight. The blond man tugged him towards a darkened hallway in which Bruce knew there would be more rooms. His heart hammered as his skin grew cold, hands damp and clammy.

He expected Clark to resist. He could forgive Clark’s need for affection and want of sating it between different mouths and bodies. But Clark wouldn’t open up to some random _stranger_ because of what had happened between them? Clark wouldn’t delve in revolving one-night stands just to build up the experience of passionate sex that lacked any sense of intimacy?

That thought made him quirk a smile. It made him less disturbed when Clark joined the man and disappeared from view. It didn’t matter who Clark played with—it would always end with the fact that he had done so in an attempt to get to Bruce, to show Bruce that he could, indeed, have a one night stand and let well alone.

And how hypocritical would Bruce be if he panged with jealousy for doing the same as he? Clark knew what his life is like and why it is tantamount that he continue to bed various women. He’s simply coming to terms with it.

He came out of his reverie when the door slammed loudly. An easy smile slid across his face as he turned from the windows in search of his phone. He’d heard Autumn’s berated screams while he focused on Clark and then amused himself at her cold indifference as she dressed.

No matter. He knew someone that would easily replace Autumn. As Autumn lavished his cock with her mouth beneath the table before, he’d passed his phone to her friend across the table so that she could input her number. The blonde beauty with charming sky blues relished the simple deception. He’d texted her that he much rather preferred _her_ than Autumn. And now he texted her to let her know that Summer came before Autumn.

Tonight is a night of firsts, he thought. And as a gentle knock came on the door, his heart happily fluttered at the thought that while he generously deflowered another lovely young beauty to mold her into what he wanted, the same would be done to Clark.  
  
After all, they'd only have one night together.


	2. The Deal

_**Within the unsavory underworld of Gotham...**_  
  
This wasn’t supposed to happen. He wasn’t supposed to be _here_ doing _this_ with _him_. He’s supposed to be checking out the sleazy patrons to keep a look-out for his niece.

He shivered as he rolled his hips up, thrusting his cock into sweltering heat.

He shouldn’t have been out looking for a barely legal young adult but she happened to be his favorite niece.

He shouldn’t have had the first few drinks because it made the rest go down easier.

He shouldn’t have approached the most enticing individual there just because he reminded him of someone he would never get. But due to it, events were put into motion that he couldn’t stop…not in his inebriated state.

Focusing on pleasured azures that matched his own is hard, so he turned his face into his pillow. Otherwise his gaze would travel down to where his cock connected to a clenching hole that threatened to squeeze him dry of cum. Or the beautiful uncut cock twirling in happy circles as its owner rode him furiously.

Oh fuck. Just the _thought_ made him…

He dug his nails into his lover’s thighs.

Wait. _He_ didn’t have blue eyes, did he?

“Barry.”

Surprise washed over him and he opened eyes he didn’t realize he’d closed. With effort, he gazed at the beautiful face hovering above him, a look of concern being displayed openly with a small frown.

“Am I doing something wrong?”

Barry Allen blinked owlishly at him. And did so again. Then he burst into laughter.

The whole situation is funny.

Because _of course_ he would think that if any situation didn’t have the desired effect and he happened to be a variable, _he_ was the problem. He wouldn’t be able to see that in this current situation, one-night stands wouldn’t apply to anyone. Because if _anyone_ tasted him like he now did, they’d have to have him continuously.

And because the only way that Barry would ever make love to him would be due to a misunderstanding followed by an offer made by him. The latter wanted to have a few one-night stands—in order to get over the hurt of only being a one-time dalliance with an unnamed suitor eventually. Barry remembers some concocted idea of perhaps being able to treat Mr. No Name, no matter if this beauty cared for him, as a gratifying lay but that required more experience—yet he didn’t feel comfortable in doing something with random strangers.

Even in his drunken stupor he knew he should convey this and quell his chuckling due to hurt filling the others’ eyes.

“No. Believe me. You’re not doing anything wrong.” He beamed up at him foolishly, enough to make the edges of the beauty’s lips turn. “Don’t ever think that.”

He continued and didn’t know what compelled him to do so. The alcohol sloshing inside didn’t help and more than likely lowered his inhibitions as well as depressing his reasoning capabilities.

“It’s just that you’re perfect, you know?” He hiccupped. “You’re beautiful, charming, charismatic, funny—everything that I’ve wanted and the only way I get you is by doing the charitable thing and helping you with your love for him. Because why would you be into _me_ when you can get _him_?”

Barry shook his head, a fit of laughter overtaking him as he caught sight of furrowed brows and widened eyes filled in confusion. “And _you_ think you’ve done something wrong because…I dunno, you expect a one-nighter to be simple and emotionless? Maybe it should be, but I wouldn’t know because I’ve never had one.”

His tone turned wistful and soft as he reached up to thumb the taut jawline. “You picked the wrong person for this if that’s what you’re looking for. Because I’m going to show you how much I want you and how I’d never turn you away because you may not fit in _my world_.”

At that, Barry raised his head to press his lips firmly against him.

                                                                                                   ~*~*~*~

**_Central City: Barry Allen's Apartment: The Next Morning_ **

_Ugh_.

Barry couldn’t intone aloud because the sound alone might make him hurl. That was the _last_ time he goes out drinking. When would he learn that his incredibly high metabolism mixed with a steady flow of drinks equaled possible disaster and a likely monster of a headache?

He opened his eyes slowly to adjust to the harsh sunlight that glared through his window. His body ached wonderfully like he’d done a thousand laps around the globe as he rose, pushing off the thin sheet barely covering him in order to sit up. So he resided in his room. Good. It comforted him to see an open carton of old chow mein on his nightstand.  

Vision swimming, he leaned his elbows on his knees, head buried into his palms. He needed to recollect last night.

He’d went to a club that he’d heard had made waves at Summer’s college. Usually, he didn’t worry after his niece. It was only when his sister made subtle references that she’d been staying out late and coming home at all hours of the night that he decided to ensure Summer didn’t head down the wrong path. Making rounds at various clubs wasn’t an issue…but this particular venue was known for its specialization.

So what happened after he got in? His memory became fuzzy after a few drinks. He remembers talking to a looker, dancing with him, locking lips, then moving to a private couch. Everything then seems to blur together.

They definitely had sex. Toe-curling fantastical mind-numbing sex. _A lot_. And every which way. Barry winced as he distinctly felt the wetness between his cheeks.

Wait…they didn’t use _condoms_?

He gave in, groaning loudly as undeniable remorse developed rapidly.

Barry got like this every once in a while and usually self-serviced when his _need_ grew to be too much to handle but he didn’t realize it was _that_ bad until after it occurred. But he’d never done it with another man. He’d always wanted to wait for _him_ to notice so that _he_ would be his first. The length of the wait would probably be an eternity though. Though Harold Jordan’s deductive reasoning could be sound, he seemed oblivious in romance.

Even so, he wouldn’t redo the previous night for anything…even _for_ him. And that made him feel worse. He could be infected with an STI or something incredibly worse due to a drunken mistake….and he wouldn’t want to redo the night before.

What the hell is wrong with him?

It had to do with how something stood out about last night. Something important that he couldn’t remember. It wasn’t the fact that this guy brought him into more orgasms than he could count in a single night. Or that his unknown lover preferred to bottom. And it definitely had nothing to do with Barry’s verbal deluge. It was the man himself…

Rustling sheets caused a stark of fear to course through him. His heartbeat pounded in his ears as his muscles grew taut.

So he brought the guy _home_? How? Did he carry him in his arms as he forgot about his powers during a black-out? He could nearly hear Batman’s cold tone admonishing him for his stupidity.

Sighing, he thought he should get this over with…or at least, see how much his temporary roommate remembered. Maybe his identity could be salvaged.

“Hey.” He uttered lamely, turning to cast a look over his shoulder. “About last night—”

Barry stopped as his sea blues captured sapphires aimed at him. A frown tugged at the edges of his lips while he let his gaze roam across his face then his frame.

Firstly, no way in hell would he have been able to carry this guy across the damn country…at least, not without a few stops. So if he did, his disguise would be blown to hell. He’d check the news for any updates on the Flash’s exposure.

Secondly, he didn’t know how he had erred so horribly. This man didn’t look even remotely _similar_ to his best friend. If anything, he appeared a _lot_ more attractive.

 _Sorry Hal_. Barry winced.

Thirdly, this guy seemed scary familiar. Like someone he dealt with on a daily basis. But why couldn’t he peg him? Is it the messy bed-ragged curls crowning him? Or the unsettling blue eyes? Maybe those sensuous full lips….

He watched him sit up, the sheet covering his stunning body settling after Barry caught a glimpse of a firm tight ass. Another wince as he thought that though _he_ didn’t remember, his _cock_ certainly did if the slight jump was an indicator.

Barry shook his head to untangle his lusty thoughts, deciding it best that he look away from this guy that made his pulse quicken with no explanation.

“Look. About last night? I have no clue what happened…besides the fact that I drank too much.” He tried to charm but it faltered. He could feel the other’s eyes on him.

Ugh. Now he made it awkward and felt a blush rise. He’d never done this before—waking up to a single lay and trying to subtly usher him out his door. It didn't need to be mentioned that his romp had been a _him_ to begin with.

Barry sighed, running a hand through his hair. He decided to take a different approach. “Last night was a mistake. I shouldn’t have approached you and I’m sure I said plenty of cringe-worthy sappy _Lifetime_ monologue to make you uncomfortable.

“Not to mention that we didn’t use condoms. I mean, with everything that’s going around these days, it’s an incredibly stupid thing for both of us to do. We should definitely get tested because though I’m clean…I don’t…” His eyes slid over to the silent man then and he felt his skin heating up. “Ugh…not saying that you _aren’t_ , I just—you know, I personally don’t know if you are. And there’s no reason for you take my word.”

Realizing that he rambled, Barry closed his mouth to await a response. After a minute, he wondered if he happened to pick up a deaf guy—just his luck—because he didn’t make a retort. Still, Barry felt oddly comfortable sitting nude in front of someone he just rolled around with and didn’t know.

Then a small curl of his lip appeared.

And a freight train hit him as he recognized the man in his bed.

“ _Holy fu—Clark_!”

Barry nearly jumped off the bed, gazing in shock at the man he’d essentially defiled in so many tantalizing ways. Blood rushed to his cock at the mere reminder.

“You and I—We—Holy shi—I mean, Clark I—” He stammered fruitlessly, trying to grasp at something to say. It was something he would have never expected. Didn’t Clark have some thing going on with some reporter at his office? Even so, he didn’t think that Clark was attracted to the same-sex. Barry chalked him up to an unfortunate and heart-wrenching loss. He knew from experience that Clark _enjoyed_ men though not how much.

The thought caused him to blush hotly. It hadn't quite sunk in yet: he'd just fucked Superman. How was he not reduced into a pulpy mess right now?

“I didn’t think that this is the way the one-night stand would end.” Barry gaped at Clark’s easy laugh. His blues shimmered as they held his before dipping lower. “Especially since I brought it up.”

If Barry could have flushed pinker, he would have due to Clark’s deliberate look at his cock. But the only thing that stopped him from covering himself with a pillow happened to be the _adoration_ held within the gaze.

His cock shifted ever so slightly.

“I don’t remember that, Clark. All I remember is—”

“Approaching me, half-heartedly listening to my proposal, and fucking me over and over?”

Barry’s mouth parted, sealed, and then opened once more in an attempt to formulate a response as he tried to reach into the dregs of his muddied memory. They had been relentless if his tired and sore frame was of any testament. And Clark was taking it  _much_ better than Barry thought he would in any other circumstance. Wait--Did he just  _curse_?

“Yeah.” He finally forced out, dazed at this new side of his friend that he hadn't known. “As well as blabbing nonsense.”

Something compelled him to add this bit of unnecessary information. “But I don’t do one night stands, Clark. This was…an accident.”

Clark’s smile lessened a smidgen causing him to wince. “I could have guessed.”

“I mean we’ve already done it. No taking it back.” He sputtered out. “It’s just…I didn’t mean to. I didn’t _want_ to.”

“I get it.” Barry had no inkling that Clark could make an expressionless face that matched Bruce Wayne’s as Batman, but he crafted it flawlessly. “You were just _really_ adamant. I’m sure you mistook me for someone else especially by the way you were talking.”

Barry hadn’t planned on revealing what his emotions on the matter, but it surprised him as he spoke. “Yeah. Just a severely one-sided crush that’s never going to be fulfilled.”

He sighed heavily, plopping himself onto his bed, not even abashed that he was openly splayed for Clark’s gaze to roam over. Pinpricks tingled on his skin alerting him to the heated gaze he received as he stared at his ceiling. He could swear that he felt a bit of actual _heat_ emanating from it…and teasingly adjusted himself so that Clark have a better view of his half-erect cock.

The creak of the bed told him that Clark reoriented himself…and Barry could feel his skin _actually_ warming up pleasantly.

This was odd. The whole situation was weird. He recently woke up to find that he’d fucked a good friend into the sheets and he didn’t mind it. He’s casually flirting with him thought he didn’t have any interest before. Not to mention that he currently lied nakedly next to him without feeling perturbed in the slightest.

It had to be due to the phenomenal toe-curling back-scratching sex he’d been treated. Was this an attempt to trade one addiction for another? A self-deprecating smile hovered over his lips as he refused to canter down that particular line of thought. Instead, he chose to confide in Clark what he realized.

“After last night, I understand how unhealthy my outlook of my relationship is with him.” Barry chuckled. “Especially if I’m attacking anyone that looks like him. Or I imagine while drunk looks remotely like him. Uh, no offense.” Clark shook his head to indicate that none was taken, curls swaying as he did so. 

He watched a thoughtful frown cover Clark’s soft lips for a few moments, his eyes clouded to reveal that he tumbled with his thoughts. When they focused sharply on him suddenly, his breath caught.

“Are you in love him?”

Barry opened his mouth immediately to reply in the affirmative but then he faltered. Hal and he were closer than brothers. Both obtained intimate knowledge of the other than no one else held and able to rise the other’s dour mood, no matter how badly it had soured. They conversed daily, met frequently, never tired of the other’s presence…and yet the beginning of Barry’s interest in him occurred when Hal decided to divert some of his attention away from Barry and onto another. He’d never entertained the thought of bedding Hal before then and became _more_ focused on the idea the further Hal decided to pursue the object of his affection.

Hal never failed to disclose this to Barry however. He would always call or text to explain why they couldn’t meet because a possible chance to ensnare his catch popped up. He just seemed oblivious to the fact that Barry didn’t wish for their time together to lessen.

He breathed out heavily through his nose as he worked his situation over in his mind. When he finally felt strong enough to speak, his tone held utter surety and not a little embarrassment.

“I guess it’s more of…wanting to receive his attention since I’ve always had it.” He chewed on his thoughts, sheepishly surveying Clark who merely observed him with an impassive face. “I don’t even want a relationship with him honestly. I just want him to stop chasing a lost cause that he’s not going to win.”

As he didn’t get a response, he simply huffed out. “Look. I’m used to getting attention from this person. I mean _a lot_. Not to the point where he drops everything in his life when I come calling but damn near close. To _lose_ that is hard to cope with. I want him to be happy, of course, but if he’s just trying to satisfy himself with someone then he can do it with _me_. It’s a win-win.”

As he spoke the words aloud, he realized how desperate it sounded, causing him to wince. That was one word he never used to describe himself. It simply reaffirmed that what he felt towards Hal was caustic.

“That’s a long winded way to say _No I don’t love him_.”

“Yeah, well. There you go.” Barry shrugged, falling back onto the bed while waving his hand in Clark’s direction. “Since we’re on the topic, what’s your reason for scoping out a man? I wouldn't have pegged you after your heart-felt revelation about Lois.”

It was a few moments before Clark spoke up softly, long enough for Barry to carefully scrutinize him, pillowing an arm above his head. “I wanted experience. I need to be able to cope with only having one night with the person I want.”

“And you think having multiple one-nighters will help? With random strangers?” Barry questioned flatly, raising a solitary eyebrow. He didn't add on that he never thought that Clark obtained any interest in men. He didn't want to ostracize him in any way or cause him discomfort. It's not as if he didn't dwell in a similar circumstance--everyone around him thought him to be a loving lady's man.

“I haven’t had multiple. Yet.” A lop-sided smile appeared. "And I know  _you_ , don't I?"

This was strange. As affectionate as Clark was, he didn’t bed anyone that didn’t have any chance of any type of emotional investment either long or short term. For someone to garner his attention to the point that he changed _himself_ was worrisome…as well as the fact that Clark seemed incapable of recognizing a grievous error.

At first, he thought that Clark was still hung up on Lois. But that couldn't be right due to Clark having slept casually with a member of the same-sex.

Clark chewed on his bottom lip. “I don’t know how else to go about it.” He almost sounded hopeless…

Barry shook his head, letting out a low whistle. “You think this guy is _really_ worth it if you’re willing to abandon your values for him?”

“I’m not _abandoning_ anything—” Clark started defensively, sapphires lighting up dangerously.

Usually, Barry would have tread carefully about a being who could snap his neck as easily as he could shred a piece of paper, but Clark was a _friend_. And no matter what, he was honest whenever it came to them.

“Just hear me out.” He interrupted, rising to a sitting position, ensuring his gaze never wavered from Clark. “I'm not trying to upset you, Clark. I'm just a friend giving my point of view."

He railroaded him as Clark opened his mouth. "I just think if you pursue this, it will be one of the biggest mistakes in your life. Not only will you feel dirty and used after having sex with someone that you don’t really _want_ but you don’t truly care about these people—not romantically anyway—so it’s not going to help you deal with your feelings the morning after you sleep with your crush. It’s a bad plan, Supes. You’d usually figure this out _way_ before I do.”

Silence hung for several moments before Clark cast his sight onto the crumpled bed-spread. A heavy frown covered his face while his eyebrows crinkled, as if his thoughts enraptured him.

But Barry knew what was happening. He suffered through it for years now. He’s sat on the sidelines, picking up the fragments of his best friend whenever he was afflicted. He’s laid awake wondering if there was anything that he could do to make Hal _aware_ of his existence as a possible lover instead of continuing to make horrendous choices of suitors. He didn’t even realize that he’d reached the line drawn in the sand last night when he started to chat up then proceed to thoroughly and deliciously _fuck_ someone. Now that he had, he knew that he could accept his place in Hal’s world. It would take time but he would manage.

Clark was not there yet, though. It became evident when he spoke, barely above a whisper.

“So essentially I need to sleep with people I care about and then have them break it off?”

“That’s not what you should be getting out of this, Clark.” He closed his eyes while running a hand through blond locks. He hoped Clark opened his eyes from his twisted view of Hal and his relationship. Whoever Clark was hung up on happened to be severely messing him up. “You should be asking _why_ you want this person who is trying to change who you are. It’s obvious that they said they’d only give you one night. Don’t you think you’re better than that?”

“How about us?”

“What?” Barry’s ocean blues flew open, zeroing in on Clark. His heart skipped a beat when Clark asked the question and Barry couldn’t determine why. He matched the even stare none-the-less, trying to decipher the meaning of the emotions dancing within sea-colored irises.

A thought broke to the forefront of his mind and it made him color a bit. Was this about him and what they just did? Was he noting that Barry was a hypocrite for saying what he had but seemed unwilling to give him more than one? Because that wasn’t it _at all_. He’d never had someone that could pleasantly exhaust him like that.

“We’ve already done it.” Clark continued, watching him scrupulously. “As you’ve said, I’m not going to pursue anyone that I don’t know well or want anything from. It's why I approached you in the first place. I thought that you'd be a good first start since you're a friend and I _do_ care about you. The fact that you’re interested in someone else is a bonus. It would be like a precursor to the real thing.”

So that was it. Clark wasn’t listening, simply bypassing logic like he was adept at doing sometimes. Barry still attempted to inject some rational thought.

“There’s a single gaping hole in your plan though and you mentioned it: we’ve already done it." He swung his head from side to side, ignoring how Clark's words lit up pleasant feelings. "And I thought we established that I’m just soliciting myself for Hal’s attention?”

“Hal?”

Barry’s eyes widened as he accounted for his misstep. His heart pounded against his chest as he thought of what to say.

But Clark simply gave out a warm chuckle, azures twinkling as he leaned back with his palms pressing into the mattress. He could just see the barest hint of that delectable pink length, its outline apparent beneath the thin sheet. “Wow. I didn’t know, Barry. I wouldn’t have guessed because you’re friendly with _everyone_. Hal’s lucky and I hope he sees it.”

“Yeah.” He expelled out finally. Swallowing due to the sudden dryness his throat, he continued. “I’m sure he does in his way, but who really knows what Hal Jordan is thinking?”

“True.” Barry thought the grin was too bright for an early morning. It shone more vibrantly than the golden hues slowly lighting up the room.  “Anyway, I don’t think this—what we just did—counts. You didn’t really know what you were getting yourself into and you weren’t sober.”

“Lots of one nighters don’t happen sober.” Barry countered.

“But _mine_ with _my_ interest will be. So it needs to be sober.”

He sighed heavily, mulling over the situation and any possible escape route. This was crazy but it's not every day that Superman solicited his body for pleasure. Then something caught him off-guard. A niggling thought that he’d subconsciously repressed in favor of others.

He’d get to twist around beneath the sheets with him again. Access would be granted between those sun-kissed thighs and he’d be able to ghost inside that unimaginably sweltering puckering bud that he ached for _now_. He’d be gifted with that melodic voice calling out for him and shown that he was _the_ best choice made for this endeavor.

“Do me this favor and I’ll owe you one.”  Clark pleaded, his face dour complete with pouting lips and begging eyes.

It fell on deaf ears and blind sight because Barry already made his choice mere moments ago. His words just reminded him of what had caused all of this in the first place.

“Actually….I could use your help.”


End file.
